


Cake and a Purple Balloon

by TheGirlInTheB



Category: Avengers
Genre: Balloons, Birthdays, Cake, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Phil, M/M, So so much fluff, missions that suck, one black eye, seriously, your teeth are going to rot out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 14:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12278280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlInTheB/pseuds/TheGirlInTheB
Summary: Phil promises Clint he'll make it back in time for his birthday -Clint's first birthday they're together. But when the mission goes sideways Phil feels like he's let Clint down.Clint's pretty sure any day with Phil Coulson is special.





	Cake and a Purple Balloon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twangcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twangcat/gifts).



> for Twangcat <3333

Phil’s standing outside Clint’s door holding a string attached to a purple balloon, a white cake box in hand, the light from Clint’s apartment falls on him in the darkened hallway. Phil looks rumpled, one eye blackened, dress shirt creased and jacket dusty; he looks like he’s come off an eight day mission. He has.

Mozambique was a two day op at best; Phil had called it himself. Just go, pick up the alien artifact that had rudely crashed into a farmer’s field before it hurt anyone, bury it under enough red tape that it never existed, pack it up and go home. 

Home. 

In time for Clint’s birthday. 

His first birthday since they got together. 

His first birthday since kissing Clint Barton in this same doorway. 

Their first special occasion together.

Phil had plans; he’s a planner, he had plans. He wanted to impress Clint with the best birthday ever –steak at a nice-but-not-too-fancy restaurant, flowers, a small cake for them to share back at his place with candles –Nat and Steve and Tony and Bruce and Thor could swing by and share some cake and drinks before leaving the rest of the night to themselves –and then an alien artifact ploughed into a farmer’s field in Mozambique and Phil kinda got wrapped up in that. 

He didn’t forget –really he didn’t, Phil’s a master at organization and multitasking –but the last artifact had been the Tesseract, and before that Thor’s hammer and…he just wanted this cleaned up. And besides, it was a quick grab job that he was taking point on. Two days tops. He swore up and down he’d be home in time for Clint’s birthday easy.

Which really was Phil’s first mistake because everyone knows you don’t make promises working at SHIELD; especially when it comes to missions because that’s the best way to jinx it. 

Why hadn’t Phil just taken the week off? Why not use up his piling up vacation days? Nick’s been on him for years to actually take a day –a month! 

Clint certainly didn’t sound like he blamed Phil for it when he finally was able to phone him; and logically Phil knows it wasn’t his fault the alien artifact decided to attach itself to some kid and turn him into an enormous mutant creature big enough to topple houses as it tore a path towards town. And very quickly their little recovery mission became one of containment and careful extraction. 

Deep down Phil knew that none of that was really his fault. Missions went tits up all the time. But…it was Barton’s –Clint’s, his Clint’s –birthday. And he’d wanted to make it special. He hates it when his plans get this badly thrown out the window. 

Now he’s standing in the hallway of Clint’s rundown brownstone; a balloon in hand and a small boxed cake he’d hastily bought from the store wearing a suit that could probably stand on its own. He feels like a failure as a boyfriend. 

Clint deserves better than him. 

Someone who could be there for him and make his special day…special? 

“Phil –hey,” and he’s pulling Coulson over the threshold into the light of the warm apartment, hand immediately coming to gentle the side of Phil’s face, “That is one hell of a shiner, babe.” 

“You should see the other guy.” Phil tries for humor but his voice is tight and wobbly and a little deflated. The other guy was now a regular twelve-year-old; healthy and cleared by medical and really sorry he'd backhanded Phil in his confusion and hurt. 

Clint’s mouth quirks up a little as he steers Phil towards the kitchen island and sitting –cake box in Coulson’s lap, balloon still in hand –before he rifles through the fridge for a bag of frozen peas. Phil’s pretty sure they’re the same peas that iced Clint’s ankle a month ago, and a goose egg he got a week before that…

“Clint –I’m sorry,” Phil’s fingers brush Clint’s warm ones, pressed against the cool plastic of the frozen pea bag which is now being softly adjusted against Phil’s ink-blue skin.

“These are my icing peas, Phil –I wasn’t gonna eat ‘em anyway.” Clint assures like that’s the problem worth apologizing for. 

“We need to get you a proper ice pack,” Phil snorts, squeezing Clint’s fingers a little. 

“Why? The peas work just fine -,” Clint assures. 

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday, Clint.” Phil clarifies, and he can see Barton working through it, counting the days, figuring out what month it is and that really doesn’t make Phil feel better. Clint Barton doesn't even bother remembering his own birthday because no one's bothered to make it a big deal. No one's bothered to make a big deal about Clint. He should be happy about it; Phil should have made it memorable –something to celebrate this wonderful person who swung into his life. 

“Is that what this is about?” He tugs gently on the ribbon holding the purple balloon in Phil’s other hand. The balloon bobs a bit before swaying lazily back and forth, “Thought medical was giving out balloons now for being a good patient.” 

“It’s for you.” Phil mumbles, “I had this whole thing planned out; there were spread sheets, Clint -, I wanted to make your birthday special and instead of booking the week off –use up some of my vacation time like Fury’s been bugging me to do –I took a mission, I put a mission before us and…” 

“You had spreadsheets? You spreadsheet-ed my birthday?” Clint’s letting go of the melting peas leaving Phil’s hand cold and alone against the bag and his face. 

“I’m not sure that’s a word, but yes. I wanted it all planned out. I wanted to make sure it was special. I’m sorry, Clint –,”   
And Clint’s sliding to his knees between Phil’s thighs, resting his hands –one colder than the other from the frozen vegetables, “You think I’m mad that we didn’t do anything on my birthday?” 

Phil’s not sure how to answer, “Yes? Perhaps more disappointed than angry? Could be re-evaluating wanting to be in a relationship-,” 

“Hey, no,” Clint leans up and brushes a soft kiss against the bridge of Phil’s nose, “No. Not for a second am I thinking getting into it with you was a bad idea.” And his face is open and soft and unguarded like Phil only rarely gets to see, “We work for a super-secret spy organization. We don’t get to choose when missions are or when they go FUBAR or what -, and my birthday’s just a day,” 

“But it shouldn’t be, Clint –it should be special. I wanted it to be special for you; for us.” Phil protests. 

“Phil, come on,” Clint wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waist in a strong hug, “every day with you is special. Waking up with you in my bed, or yours, holding your hand, watching movies with you –fuck, Phil that’s everything.”

Phil’s cheeks dust pink and Clint has to kiss that blush, “This; getting to kiss you whenever, that’s way better than birthday cake.” And he takes a moment to give Phil a proper kiss on the lips. 

“Phillip Coulson, the day you told me you love me is my birthday.” Clint breathes the words against Phil’s skin happy to feel the smile against his mouth and Phil’s arms coming to wrap themselves around Clint’s shoulders. 

“I love you, Clint Barton.” Phil tries to push everything into those words, clutching his archer close to him, “and we are currently crushing your birthday cake.” 

“I was kinda wondering what was in the box.” Clint leans back to investigate the somewhat dented box of chocolate cake. HAPPY BIRTHDAY CLINT is written in loopy purple icing letters. Phil had asked for an arrow to be put underneath the writing and Barton sneaks a finger into the frosting and confetti sprinkles holding it up to let Phil lick the sugar off his skin. 

“I was going to take you out for dinner, get you flowers –invite the team over-,” Phil admits as he takes Clint’s fingers into his mouth to clean off the icing. 

“But this is kinda better.” Clint grins a little wolfishly taking his finger back and kissing the taste of chocolate from Phil’s lips. 

Tomorrow Phil Coulson will call in a week’s vacation time for both him and Clint. He’ll pull a few strings and get them into a nice restaurant, cue up the latest episodes of Dog Cops and enjoy time with his boyfriend. 

But first a shower.


End file.
